First Rites
by jaqueline-littlebird
Summary: A missing scene from 'The Mammoth Hunters': Latie's first rites.
1. man needed

A/N: A missing scene from TMH. Jondalar turned down Latie's First Rites, but who was with her then? She did get First Rites before the end of TMH. And how do they make that an enjoyable experience to virgin girls anyway, with two dozen couples or so random groping in one darkened tent, then coupling beside each other, while nobody may even speak because they are not supposed to know each other? They don't have the calm, privacy and slow trust-building there that Noria and Jondalar had in VoH.

I published this first in the ECfans forum. Some people there mistakenly thought the Mamutoi did First Rites in the same way Jondalar&Noria had at the Hadumai: one woman, one man, one tent. Not so; far from it. The text in italics below is a quote from TMH, describing what they actually do.

Disclaimer: The books of the Earth's Children series and all characters therein are property of Jean M. Auel. This unworthy woman does not claim any copyright and does not make any money with this.

* * *

_The day before the ceremony, the young women who were staying together in one  
tent - occasionally there were too many for one tent and two Camps of young women  
would be established - would go out as a group. When they found a man with whom  
they wanted to spend the night, they would surround and "capture" him. The men thus  
captured were required to go along with the initiates-few men objected to the  
requirement. That night, after some preliminary rituals, they would all go together into  
the darkened tent, grope to find each other, and spend the night exploring the differences  
and learning the Pleasures of each other. Neither the young women nor the men were  
supposed to know with whom they eventually coupled, though in actual practice, they  
usually did. The watching older women made sure there was no undue roughness, and  
were available on the rare occasion that advice was necessary._

* * *

Cast:

Darnev: Tulie's late first man

Deegie: young woman from lion camp, Tulie's daughter, promised to Branag, planning to found a new camp with her older brother Tarneg

Latie: young woman from lion camp, daughter of Nezzie and Talut, about to recieve first rites

Lomie: healer of wolf camp

Nezzie: Talut's woman, mother of Danug, Latie, Rugie; adoptive mother of Rydag and of her nephew Ranec

Rydag: child of mixed spirits

Talut: headman of lion camp, Tulie's brother

Tarneg: Tulie's firstborn son, living at his mate's camp, planning to found a new camp with his sister Deegie

Tulie: headwoman of lion camp, Talut's sister, mother of Deegie and Tarneg

Vincavec: headman and mamut of mamoth camp

* * *

**First Rites**

Tulie was at a loss, and now she deeply regretted pestering the Mamuti to allow the First Rites ritual despite the bad omen of the ashes cloud. Jondalar had turned down Latie's request. This was very unexpected, and unprecedented.

Long-distance travellers, so long as they appeared decent and physically healthy, were always invited to First Rites as well as any other activity to honour the Mother, and, as a rule, did not refuse. On an instinctive level, the people of the periglacial steppes, living in small groups scattered over a vast landscape largely devoid of human habitation, understood they needed the occasional traveler to prevent inbreeding.

The summer meetings allowed them at least to find partners from outside their own close-knit - and usually closely related - camp communities, but someone from far away was always desirable and in great demand. Besides, Tulie could well understand why Latie would have a crush on that tall, broad-shouldered, handsome man from the shores of the western ocean. Particularly when he was wearing Darnev's clothes she had a hard time herself not to jump on him and drag him to her furs as if he were her first mate returned from the spirit world. But even if he were, it was his choice whom to be with, and her - Tulie's - task to find a suitable man for Latie's First Rites.

Although she did not mind children of mixed spirits any more, having lived with Rydag for years and having learned his sign language from Ayla these past months, Tulie sincerely wished that Ayla had not mentioned her past with the Clan and her mixed son to the summer meeting as a whole. The timing could hardly have been worse.

It wasn't just that Latie kept getting ridiculed by her peers at the young womens' enclosure, particularly that girl from Chaleg's camp who had insisted she would have none other than her headman. Tulie was running out of options.

Two old friends from different camps whom she knew to be experienced and gentle had turned her request for Latie down, stating they would have nothing to do with a girl with a flathead connection. Well, those two would certainly not have to worry about their male parts rotting off from indulging with a flathead-friendly woman (or one sharing camp with a flathead child), since they would not have any use for their male parts at upcoming mother festivals anyway, at least as far as Tulie was concerned.

However, she still needed to find someone suitable for Latie. Besides, she would have to take extra care to steer Chaleg to that young woman from his camp exclusively and keep him well away from La... the other girls. Ideally, he wouldn't show up at all, or at least not be able to perform. Bouza could do that to a man, and Chaleg imbibed the stuff with gusto whenever he had the chance.

„Frebec is a caring man", Tulie mused, „loving and gentle, Fralie recommends him highly". Deep in thought, she left the young women's enclosure and wandered slowly towards cattail camp. „He's Chaleg's cousin; they are of the same height and built. I wonder ..."

But then, she thought, Latie would likely recognize him, and that was not supposed to happen with couples at First Rites, they were supposed to have no idea whith whom they were, though they usually did. The girl from Chaleg's camp would certainly learn she had been tricked as soon as the witches' salve would wear off. Chaleg himself would throw a fit, rightfully so for a change.

Was it worth all this just to make sure that that uncouth bouza-belly did not get his unwashed paws on Latie? If she only remained unopened that night, she could still have a quiet ceremony on her own with a trustworthy man the day after. Provided Tulie could find a trustworthy man ...

„And everyone would know", Tulie thought. People gossiped. Nobody would want the „flathead-sister". The entire lion camp's status would go down further. Tulie could not do that to Latie and her camp. She needed a man.


	2. creepy magic

Latie held her head up high, determined not to give in to the other girls' derision. She was not ashamed of her little brother Rydag, and not of her camp-mate Ayla's son either. Let the hyenas howl, she was of the lion hearth and would not back down. Little did she know that hyenas often killed lion cubs, and sometimes fully grown lions, if the numbers were in their favour.

* * *

Walking deep in thought around the Mamuti lodge, Tulie nearly stumbled over Old Mamut, who was sitting on a fur-covered stone outside the tent, with Vincavec squatting at his feet.

Before she could mumble an apology, the young man jumped to his feet and steadied her. „Tulie, dream of my lonely nights, I was waiting just for you this moment, I swear!" he exclaimed, exaggeratedly brushing her cheeks with his. „You still haven't told me of the bride price you'll charge for Ayla. Remember, I'm still willing to meet any demand."

Tulie remembered, and was still as surprised and pleased as in the first place that the Mammo... Musk Ox Camp's headman-Mamut was willing to pay any bride price she'd care to demand for the privilege to join with Ayla, even if it was only in name, when she'd live with Ranec at Lion Camp most of the time.

With a bit of envy, she thought he'd clearly been born with an amber necklace, and had been spoiled from birth. However, she had other tasks to consider right now. Why were those two sitting outside the Mamuti tent anyway, she wondered, when lively shouts and occasional uproars indicated a heated discussion inside?

Vincavec apparently sensed her question. „The mammoth hearth, in their infinite wisdom", he intoned, taking a dignified stance, „have found that their collective understanding of the person-animal-distinction shall be greatly enhanced if they turn the eldest and most experienced Mamut out." He gestured towards Old Mamut as to leave no doubt who was meant. „As for me - I am, myself, just taking a breath of fresh air and enjoying the broader view", he said with an exaggerated gesture and a quick leer at Tulie's cleavage, seemingly trying to make it sound as if he had not been turned out himself. He smiled wryly.

Tulie was again taken with the young man's charm and confident personality. She knew he could be fun to be around, also friendly and helpful - the Ma... Musk Ox Camp had been the first to side with the Lion Camp on the flathead issue - although there was an underlying craving for status and influence she understood all too well. For someone not long out of training as an acolyte, he had accomplished much, and was now gambling at high stakes by siding with them. He wasn't bad-looking either.

Old Mamut's knowing glance and soft chuckling went unnoticed when Tulie grabbed Vincavec by the arm and dragged him bodily towards the camp tents, explaining in walking that she needed someone for an important spiritual task, but had to verify he was up to it beforehand.

* * *

Deegie and Tarneg found Vincavec on the other side of his 'mammoth hearth' in Larch Camp, sitting in the lee of the tent on the feathergrass still intermingled with volcanic ash, a small fireplace in front of him and surrounded by an odd assortment of pouches, boxes, baskets with fresh herbs, and cooking tools such as ladles and a bone mortar.

He had just added cooking stones to a large bowl that apparently contained clean, rendered tallow and some water, then picked up a toad that lay seemingly dead on its back, legs outstretched, as did a few others beside it. Covering his left hand with a piece of leather so as not to touch the amphibean directly, he made a long cut along its belly, but then heard the onlookers' footsteps and looked up.

Tarneg, eyes wide with wonder, was just bending down to pick up and examine one particularly ornate wooden box with mother-of-pearl inlays. As if sitting on flint-chips, the young shaman jumped and spun around, dropping his work piece, and lay a heavy hand on the exotic box before Tarneg could touch it.

„You spill one crumb from this box" he said menacingly, his heavily tattooed face contorted with barely suppressed anger, „or anything else for that matter, and I'll make you journey to the riverpeople carrying an entire winter hunt's worth of furs to trade for henbane and mandragora every coming year of your miserable life. Did I make myself clear?"

It was not exactly the kind of curse one expected from a person dealing with the spirit world, but Deegie slowly realized they must have interrupted something other than an early dinner cooking.

Tarneg had apparently come to the same conclusion; he was standing slightly behind her, well away from the precious container, still at a loss for words and inching away further. Not being part of the musicians as Deegie was, her brother held the same fear and awe of anything magic as most of their people did.

A movement behind the still scowling shaman startled her. The toad he had cut open, which clearly was dead as it had not flinched, was coming to life again. Waving its legs and swallowing as if gathering air to scream, it finally managed to turn from its back to its belly and crawled away, tangling its entrails in the grass. The small animal's back was glistening with large drops of creamy liquid, like little pockets of pus. Another one of the dead toads that lay on their backs awoke to life and struggled up.

Deegie was speechless, she could only stare and point in horror, and keep the contents of her bowels in. Such things did not happen. The dead did not come alive again. Seeing her look, Vincavec spun around, jumped after the unharmed toad, caught it and gave it a long and solemn stare, layed it out on its back again and trailed its stomach with his finger a couple of times. It was dead again, or at least unconscious. Then he followed the injured toad, picked it up carefully and slit its throat. Waving the carcass, he angrily asked „So, what do you want?"

„Wha... wha... what's all this?" Tarneg stammered from behind.

„What's it look like?", the tattoed shaman asked, brandishing the butchered animal.

„That's a toad."

„So why do you ask?"

Deegie composed herself. She had some idea what he might be brewing shortly before the First Rites ritual, but she wondered. „Isn't that a woman thing to do, Vincavec?" she asked.

„No, it's a Mamut thing to do", he replied. „Can you imagine Lomie hopping after toads in the swamps?"

She could not, but the image was funny. The Mamutois' first healer was way to voluminous and asthmathic to do such a thing.

„Someone has to, so I did."

She had a feeling that there was more to it, in the everlasting competition for power, knowledge and prestige, but it was not her place to mention that. She had come with her brother for another reason.

Vincavec apparently guessed as much. „So, what do you want?" he asked.

„We are here on behalf of Nezzie", Deegie replied. He raised one eyebrow. „Nezzie wants you to know that Latie will wear a heandband of horsehair, freshly woven, from Whinney and Racer, and you can regognize her by that, the feel and the smell."

The young man nodded.

„We are also to tell you that if you hurt her, Talut will find you, rip your male parts off and make you eat them before he'll kill you."

At this, Vincavec threw his head back and loughed heartily. „So, why didn't the big bear show up himself to tell me that?"

„He is seeking out Chaleg to fill him up with bouza, so that guy at least will not show up", Deegie replied.

„Even Chaleg can't be so stupid as to fall for that ruse", he retorted, „after all, how often does Talut invite Chaleg to drinks normally?"

Deegie agreed grudgingly.

„Well, thank you for the tip with the horsehair, and please give Tulie my regards and tell her I can not be captured for the ceremony because I'm busy. That aside, Deegie my dear" he smiled suggestively, „if you don't trust your mother, I would so love to prove to you that I'm up to the task. Of course not today, as we'll be having the ceremony. But tomorrow, if you are of a mind?" His smile broadened still and he positivley leered at Tarneg. „Or how about that young man there? Know that I am always willing to honour the Mother."

Deegie looked back at her brother and felt he was ready to bolt.

„Off now, shooo! You are not supposed to see this.", said their opponent, who apparently sensed the same and had intended this, judging from his triumphant grin.

Deegie and Tarneg were all too happy to leave that place of creepy magic. Deegie wondered how Mammoth Camp could live with their weird headman. She had never given those nasty rumours credit that blamed him for his older brother's death, mostly because even in the most frightening stories told on long winter nights, never did evil shamans send spirits of illness to their own siblings.

It was undeniable, however, that Vincavec had stolen and swallowed some woman's life force in the past. But Deegie remembered Old Mamut's explanation of life forces to Latie and the discussion they'd had: It was the young woman's responsibility to stay under the protection of older women while her life force was vulnerable. A man couldn't help it if his own life force tried to steal that of a woman. It would give him some female desires if he succeeded - and power, if he chose to practice magic.

One thing was certain both for Deegie and Tarneg: For their own future camp, they wanted a harmless, friendly, motherly healer for a Mamut, and not one of them of great power in the spirit world. If only Nezzie would show an interest in working up from her household medicine knowledge, as many middle-aged women did, of whom several became Mamuti over the years, so she could take over from Old Mamut once his time would come.

Founding the new camp close to Lion Camp might be so nice. There was Ayla for healing and Old Mamut whom they trusted, since he was their insert-some-'great'-here-grandmothers' mate, and they had grown up under his protection.

They did not realize how exceptionally powerful he was, and how dangerous some of the things he did were. Not every Mamut would even believe it was possible to command and press a true evil spirit into a visible form for everyone to see, as the old man had done at the spring festival, and those few who had the knowledge would never dare try. Yet for him, it had been a simple cleansing ritual.


	3. background noise

On the eve of the ceremony, the women-to-be were led around the central camp area by the watching women, so as to surround and 'capture' each and every man they desired for their First Rites. Of course, the men who had been requested and had agreed to participate were expected to be close by and be captured easily.

There were cries of dismay when it became obvious that this flock of women was two men short. Latie cried bitter tears when Jondalar was nowhere in sight, but aquiesced when Tulie indicated for her to return to the enclosure. There was, after all, the option that one of the men might open her after tending to the girl who had invited him in the first place. But it so hurt to see several of the girls pointing at her, then patting their heads as if to flatten them with one hand and rubbing the other hand on their stomachs as if to comfort an unborn baby, and laughing derisively. Latie would not let her family down.

* * *

Dusk was approaching, and the women-to-be, with their watching women and the captured men, were about to return to the enclosure for the preparations and cleansing rituals, when a lone male figure staggered into view, wildly waving his long, matted, greasy hair and gesticulating with a nearly empty bouza skin.

His clothes were tattered and a stench of old sweat preceded him, but the young girl from his camp hopped with joy, screamed „Chaleg!" and hugged him as if he were the lead drummer at the midsummer dance. Well, maybe he was, in years they found the all Mamutoi meeting place too far away from their camp to join.

Tulie made sure none of the men already captured could sneak away now that Chaleg had entered their ranks. She knew she should have collected more soaproot, but with a whole summer meeting in demand, the stuff was getting scarce.

* * *

Latie was in tears when Tulie swept up her hair and fastened the headband of freshly woven horsehair. Each and every other woman had a man for them in attendance, except for her. „Just leave me be", she sobbed, „this won't help. He did not come. HE DID NOT COME! He doesn't care!" she wailed miserably.

The other girl-women were shooting odd glances, some pityful, some full of spite. From the back of the tent, Tulie seemed to hear faint whispers of guarded conversation: „Too bad ..." „Yeah, woulda liked that traveller myself ..." „...never known the difference in the dark if you'd held her down so long, them watch-harridans are all deaf anyway ..."

Well, Tulie was certainly not deaf, but investigating into a failed plot was quite pointless, even if they ever had been serious about it, she thought. She would certainly remember the names and faces of those involved in the whispered discussion.

With all her headwoman authority, Tulie convinced Latie to hold still anyway and have the magic salve applied. Other watching women were rubbing it on the breasts and nether parts of their respective charges.

Thankfully, Vincavec had delivered the stuff at the last moment, and was now in attendance for his part in the ceremony, waiting in the corner of the tent Tulie had indicated, but she just couldn't tell Latie now, could she? Judging from his dilated pupils, Vincavec had been affected by the salve himself, even though it was reserved for women only. The headwoman shrugged: He was Mamut and should know what he was doing; he had certainly proven his virility to her earlier.

The instructions to the girls of what to expect had so far gone well, Tulie thought, although that girl from Chaleg's camp, Dollie, had been asking many questions one would not expect from somebody new to pleasures.

* * *

Whatever that wondrous stuff was that Tulie had rubbed on her breasts and between her legs, Latie was sure the Mother's own power was within it, and she wanted it every day from now. All her anxiety had dissipated. Her body tingled all over with desire previously unknown. She felt like flying, or riding Whinney at top speed, and vaguely recalled visions otherwise stacked away, such as Ayla raising her hips to meet Ranec, or Tulie with Barzec deeply imbedded to her, holding Wymez' member in her hand to keep him ready for his turn.

Only dimly did she register being shoved at some man in the pitch-black tent, who embraced her firmly, then trailed one hand up her back to her head, where he could feel her headband and was apparently assured of her identity.

Other couples had less subtle methods. Close by, someone staggering around belched loudly, and Latie smelled bouza on his breath. One of the girls squealed and threw herself at him, tumbling down with him right beside Latie and her lover, who had just begun lowering her carefully to a pile of furs.

Other couples in the tent were emitting all kinds of noises. From the equally surprised, curious and delighted gasp of a virgin girl touched in one of her places of pleasure through the throaty moans of men holding back, to the ... to the agonized outcry of one young woman on the other side of the tent whose man had been too rough and eager. Latie stiffened.

She heard the shuffling of watching women hurrying over there, at least one of them stumbling over some non-involved couple in between, which lead to ouches and mumbled apologies. Some angrily whispered words drifted over from the far side of the tent loud enough to be understood: „Gentle ... rip off ... Mother's own wrath ... take care myself ...".

Somehow, her excitement dissipated. But she wanted that wonderful, carefree flying sensation again. She focused on sensations closer to her.

The man on top of her was taller than she, Latie noticed, but not as broad in the shoulders as Jondalar, and his male scent was not the one she had hoped for, sadly. Frebec? No, that didn't fit either, and Frebec had grown a beard recently; this man was clean-shaven.

She buried her face in his long hair. He must have bathed not too long ago, she noticed, and rinsed himself with a herbal infusion that smelled rather nice, of southernwood, sage and bog myrtle. There was some hair on his chest, and when she laid an arm around his back to draw him closer, and he shifted position to bend down to her neck and give her a love bite - and oh that was wonderful! - there were hard muscles working under his skin.

She felt his erect manhood against her thigh but was still afraid to spread her legs for him as instructed. What if it hurt so much she'd cry out, as at least one of the other girls in the tent had done?

Her peers already ridiculed her as the flathead-sister; it would not do to be seen as wimpy also. Her man seemed to sense she wasn't ready yet and did not urge her, but caressed her gently. The weight alone of having one fully-grown male on top of her was wonderfully arousing, and he touched her in places that sent jolts of pleasure through her, but the background noise from the tent was too disconcerting.

No matter how hard Latie focused or tried to drift away, there was no escaping from the ruckus on the sleeping place beside them.

„Oh - oh - oh yes, yes, yes, harder! Harder! Give it to me, my headman! Oh, oh, yes, my headman, oh, harder!"

Tulie's voice interceded, loud and commanding: „Pipe it down or I'll throw you out!"

Wet, smacking noises, and a male voice slurred: „Dollieee, my Dollieeee. Bouza doethn't madder do a reall man. My Dollie izz in heat ..."

„Stuff it or I'll throw you into the river. I mean it!"

Latie's man stifled a giggling fit into her shoulder. She had the distinct impression that those two beside her were not at it for the first time. Still, this did not relieve her tension. To the contrary, she was more self-conscious now, the only girl in a tent of men and women enjoying each other; not to forget: rejected by the wonderful Jondalar, who was likely sharing pleasures with some redfoot somewhere at this very moment, while she herself would remain a child if she didn't muster the courage soon ...


	4. bad trip, and visions

A/N: Rape warning, if only implied and only in a dream sequence.

* * *

As her mood turned from carefree to despair, instead of flying like a mother spirit, she now felt herself rooted helplessly to the ground, and flying spirits moving in on her. They did not look friendly.

Tears welled up and she sobbed, while fuzzy shapes in dark colours encroached from the fringes of her vision to hack their fangs into her neck, some of them tasting rectangular, others sounding like foul flavours.

The icy blackness tried to envelope her in its bat-wings of hyena fur. Weakly, she lashed out at the evil spirits and begged them to leave her alone. Her whines and whispered pleas were drowned out by the moans and groans from the adjacent couple.

A deep, commanding voice intruded into Latie's horrified dreams: „The spirits are friendly. The spirits are friendly. Embrace them, play with them. The predators have come only to give you their furs. They are fluffy."

Latie felt fluffy furs embracing her flanks, cuddling her, and the darkness above her seemed less frightening, rather like a benevolent bed-cover.

„See the mushroom men dancing with the strawberry women", the voice continued, „you are their guest of honour. Each and every one is going to kiss you. They are such jolly spirits. Have fun!"

It was true, the spirits looked a lot less frightening now, and the red and white strawberry women got really well along dancing with the similarly coloured mushroom men, and one of the latter kissed her deeply, which was quite exciting, and interestingly he did not taste like mushroom but like mint.

But what finally brought Latie out of her worry-induced bad trip was Chaleg's primeval scream of completion before he collapsed on top of his Dollie.

In her addled state of mind, the thought of forbidden, early pleasures like the couple next to her had apparantly enjoyed did not shock but excite her. Images returned: Ayla and Jondalar, the drapes to their sleeping platform not quite closed; she on her hands and knees, he kneeling behind her ... like those rhinos she had once watched on a hunting expedition ... or horses ...

What if she'd taken Jondalar to the horse-hearth for pleasures before first rites? Or someone? Unconciously, she reached for her headband, dislodged it, and, breathing the scent in deeply and thinking of what might have been, she finally gave in to the gentle caresses and spread her legs wide.

There was a slight pain, but she didn't care; her mind was flying, riding the wind, travelling the landscape at incredible speed, looking for something - horses, a lover, a point of purpose. She didn't know. It was way better than riding double with Ayla on Whinney, and that ride already had given her sweet pressure and pleasure in places she had not expected.

Some other presence was drawn in with her, following her, and she could sense utter astonishment, but she really didn't care, while the wild ride on ... whatever ... was giving her more pleasure than she ever thought possible.

* * *

Latie was lost in visions and dreams. She had passed by a band of women on horseback led by her sister (was that really Rugie with that bent wooden stick and the quiver of tiny javelins on her back?) and was now standing on the shores of Beran Sea, dressed in a light garment of woven plant fibres as the Sungaea made them.

A large watercraft lay pulled up on the gravelly beach, like one of those the riverpeople made, but even more impressive, with eyes at the prow, rows of oars, and a tree standing a-midships where they could pull up some cloth for the spirit of the wind to press into, Oooha, whom they were carrying with them in a leather pouch they'd gotten from the wind spirit's son, Aee-ol-urs. She had already handed over the belt of her garment to the leader of their crew. Apparently he needed it to re-tie the pouch that contained the wind spirit, or so she'd understood. She was not really that proficient in her brother Rydag's silent language.

The leader of the band of strangers was of mixed spirits, a broad-shouldered man with bushy hair and beard, dressed in a lion skin wrap, armed with a club. They were doing a hunting-dance, praising his deeds.

He had killed not just that lion but also the largest boar anyone had ever seen, also a sea-serpent whose heads re-grew if severed, taken down man-eating birds with his spear-thrower, and cleaned the horse-hearth of the horse-keeping headman. Latie's spirit within her descendant's body reclined against the tree with the golden-yellow apples.

Ayla had told her she could see the future at times. The elder legends of the Mamutoi confirmed the same: people in a near-death situation drawing on ancestral spirits for guidance, or shamans drawn into the body of a descendant and Seeing a possible future. But wasn't that something that happened only to shamans, if anybody at all? Latie had no time to wonder.

She understood now why the young woman under the apple tree had drawn on her. She had a lump on her temple, and her head hurt abominally. There was, apparently, something else entirely to that handing over of the girdle than controlling some wind spirit, and the Clan man had performed a mating ritual that included clobbering her over the head with his club and dragging her by her hair.

The young woman had been frightened out of her mind, and reached into the spirit world. Now Latie was with her, and, strangely, she was not frightened at all. She had not been clubbed down herself, and was rather attracted to the handsome man who could have been her little brother's uncle; she smelled horses and was sure she would be rescued.

Here was a hero who would be remembered in songs and legend for times to come, and Latie wanted to be part of his tale and to experience him. She spread her legs wide, and enjoyed the ride. He was eager, and rough, but she was so ready, she soon felt the bliss, and then she flew back in time and space to where she belonged, half-guided by some amorphous presence that seemed to know the way, and then blackness.


	5. other peoples' problems

Vincavec woke up groggily, lying on top of Latie, spent and also spiritually drained. He had heard of spirit travels to other times and places, and of people being possessed by a spirit of one of their ancestors, but never experienced anything like that before.

Was it the witches' salve, that mamuti did not usually apply to themselves, or was it that Latie was unusually gifted, he wondered. She should go into training to become a mamut, he thought. But then, she could not have children if she did so; the plants the mamuti used for access to the spirit world did not agree with childbearing women.

The majority of mamuti were female, but most of them were older women who had started their training only after their children were grown, usually because they were drawn to healing while treating their offspring's childhood diseases.

As a rule of thumb, those women of a later calling were not eager to travel the spirit world, and did not acquire great power. Those destined for power, on the other hand, whether male or female, usually received their calling, or joined the ranks of those who served just to quench their curiosity, rather early in their lives.

Vincavec was roused from his musings by a stirring from the furs beside him. Chaleg had gone on to snoring loudly, but the woman underneath him was becoming agitated. Judging from his mumbling and the rustling of the bedding, she was apparently shaking him. In a distressed whisper she demanded that he wake up and use „it", whatever that was, that he should have brought with him.

From the new woman's quiet rumblings (Dollie was the name, wasn't it?), Vincavec got an idea what she was so frantically seeking. The couple had been at it before the ceremony as suspected. For a last vestige of respectability, and bride-price, and to prevent rumours about bad luck, she now needed Chaleg to apply some animal's blood to her thighs and the bedding, which he hopefully would have brought with him as instructed.

Outside, somebody was lighting a fire. Apparently the watching women thought the ceremony now completed and were encouraging the men who had participated to leave before dawn. The dim light reaching them through the skins of the tent made it easier to find and put on their clothes and reach the door flap without stumbling over someone.

Some men were already getting up and dressing to leave, while some others, also roused by the commotion, were less in a hurry and asked their - or neighbouring - women whether they'd like a second demonstration.

Latie was fast asleep, so Vincavec tucked her in snugly with the sleeping furs. He pitied the young woman next to them. So she did not have the required minimum of self-restraint, but he knew life must be hard at Chaleg's and the two related „scrap-camps".

If they mended their lodges as well as their leaky, half-rotten tents ... and they all were very lean each year upon arrival at the summer meeting, and often short a child or older person. So had the girl just had a girlish crush and no self-restraint, as the older women in the council of sisters might put it, or had she seen the need to increase her chances of survival by throwing herself at her camp's lead hunter? Or something in between?

Did she deserve to be scorned? Chaleg, on the other hand, would not be scorned, but praised for his manliness, and he would be the envy of all men. Sharing pleasures with a woman before first rites was every man's wild, forbidden dream.

That settled it. Vincavec decided he would help the woman. Sighing, he tried to remember where fleabane grew near Wolf Camp, while searching Chaleg's pile of clothing for the required flask of blood. He was glad when he found it, a small animal's bladder filled with liquid - so at least the other man had that much sense of responsibility that he'd brought something.

In the meantime, Dollie had continued shaking and prodding the man on top of her, constantly pleading with him, and her efforts came to fruitition: he stirred and mumbled. Vincavec handed him the blood-filled flask; it was that man's duty after all.

The groggy man felt that a container of liquid was handed to him and mumbled: „Thankee chum, 'm real thirsty." Still lying on top of Dollie, keeping her down with his weight, and oblivious to her horrified squeal, he unstoppered the bladder and drank deeply, only to choke, cough and sputter the next instant, followed by a mostly unintellegible stream of foul language.

Vincavec thought his jaw would drop to the floor. This would certainly be the riot at the laughing contest next winter. But he should not laugh now, not to draw the watching women; Dollie needed some time yet to handle the situation. Don't laugh - don't laugh - think about something boring! Counting words? Two hands and four is half a cycle of the moon ... No, not working. He was holding his mouth with both hands and getting a hickup from suppressed laughter. Think of something boring, very boring! Aspects of sacred colours? The Mother's song? Verses came to him unbidden:

In the tent's darkness, at that special time

coupled a man and a girl in their grime.

From the dregs of the earth She'd created the pair

but to teach them manners She never did care.

At least She made them desire each other

and never the neighbouring couples to bother.

Not working either. He was curled up in a fetal position, laughter ready to explode. Valez' welcoming speech to the council of brothers! The Wolf Camp headman was known for his lengthy sleeping-drought speeches, and had outdone himself this year. Vincavec's mind went blank.

* * *

Dollie was an inventive young woman, and not as addled by the witches' salve as the other girls, who had likely been kept well away from mind-altering substances all their lives by their camps' shamans. (Selfish bunch; weren't the Mother's plants there for everyone to use?)

When Chaleg dropped the blood-containing bladder, she caught it before it could run empty completely, and applied the remaining few drops between her legs. To be on the safe side, she bit and tore the little container open and rubbed her inner thighs with the bloodstained inside, and Chaleg's crotch also. There now, that should convince them old hags - or at least, they could not prove anything against her.

She flung the torn bladder into a corner of the tent, then rubbed her hands clean on the bedding, and her face also, just in case some blood from Chaleg's sputtering hat hit her. In case of remaining traces, she decided, he would have suffered nosebleed; that wasn't uncommon for men who had fun after drinking heavily.

Just in case, she scooped up some blood from her thigh and smeared it under his nose. He barely stirred, having gone to sleep again while she'd been busy tearing up the little bladder. She wrapped an arm around him and a fur around her back and went to sleep.

* * *

A little while later Vincavec had calmed down sufficiently to take in his surroundings once again, and, seeing Dollie and Chaleg asleep and cuddling, decided the woman must be comfortable with the situation, so there was no need for himself to bite his tongue and spit blood on her or anything like that any more. All the better.

Latie was still asleep as well. He was not quite comfortable with leaving the young woman next to the snoring Vulture Camp headman, but all the other men had departed already, so he figured the watching women would soon move in to throw Chaleg out.

The young shaman picked up the bundle of his clothes, not bothering to put them on, and exited the tent, planning to take a quick dunking in the river before going to sleep, and to smoke out his clothes the next day, to make sure nothing that might have crawled over from the Vulture Camp bundle would last.


	6. suspect

Tulie and Brecie, the Elk Camp headwoman, were sitting beside the fire at the exit gate of the womanhood camp. Giving them a nod and a smile, Vincavec made to walk past nonchalantly, but Brecie got up and stopped him.

Annoyed and tired, he shrugged and rolled his eyes, just wondering what she had in store for him now. True, Elk and Amber Camp (and hence Musk-Ox / Mammoth Camp also, siding with his mother's Amber Camp) had been quarrelling for decades, over the amber-for-salt trade issue, and who was entitled to do direct trade with the riverpeople, and who was not. But the woman was really taking it a step too far if she was going to hassle him on this special night.

It was not Brecie who addressed him, however. Motioned into action by Brecie and looking slightly embarassed herself, Tulie rose also, a waterskin and a leather rag in her hands, and informed Vincavec: „It's nothing personal, but we must insist you wash - there."

She looked at his crotch pointedly. „Everybody knows that virginal blood carries tremendous power," she continued. „That is why all the bloodied bedding from this tent will be burnt. It is also well known that by using parts of a body, like blood or hair for instance, a shaman can gain control over a person. So, Vincavec, we must make sure you do not leave here with any traces of blood of ... the woman you were with." Tulie finished a bit lamely.

So Brecie was apparently using Crozie's horror-stories about evil shamans, that Tulie was exposed to all winter, to build up her personal influence. Clever woman. Vincavec himself did not believe such magic would work. If it did, he reasoned, entire tribes would be under some shaman's control somewhere. His own experiments had not worked either.

Sighing, he reached for the waterskin and started rinsing himself; there was no point in argueing, and he was really tired. He did reject the towel skin though; there was just no telling who (thinking of certain Vulture Camp members) might have used it before and left their pubic lice to go visiting without formal introduction.

Just when he was done and about to leave, Brecie stopped him again. Turning to Tulie she said:

„We need to search his clothes. He might have hidden something, you know, some hair or something blood-soaked."

„Brecie, I really think you're exaggerating it.", Tulie tried to intercede, but when Brecie reminded her that they had agreed previously that all this was logical to do and was really part of caring for the safety of the new women, Vincavec just dumped his clothing at their feet, and Tulie picked trough the heap unenthusiastically, casting him an apologetic glance.

Moments later, with a very shocked expression, she held up a small, blood-stained rag.

* * *

Vincavec knew immediately what it must be that Tulie had found: Chaleg's blood container for Dollie. She must have bitten it open, he reasoned, to extract the last bits of blood, thus it looked like a rag now and not like a bladder any more, but someone who knew what this must have been could still make out the nozzle and stopper hanging down from one side, crusted in dried blood and easy to overlook.

Of course the woman would have thrown the piece of evidence away. Why did it have to land on his pile of clothing? That's what you get for doing a good deed, he thought, his mind reeling. Here went his good reputation, if he still had one, along with his bride price claim on Ayla ... unless the Spirit Woman would take an interest in someone who reportedly practised black magic, if only to stop him. He would welcome any opportunity to talk to her at length.

But he needed to act quickly now, before Brecie would come out of the mixture of surprise and gloating visible on her face. Feigning false contridedness, he said to Tulie: „Well then, there's no harm in trying, is there? I just knew you observant women would find it before I got out with that. Right, just burn it, I didn't intend to use it for anything major anyway."

To his immense relief, Tulie tossed the thing into the fire quickly with apparent apprehension, just when Brecie rose triumphantly and announced they would drag him to the councils for attempted rape of someone's spirit.

* * *

Brecie had not really expected to find anything incriminating in his clothing, but had wanted to drive home the point that Vincavec was not to be trusted. Now that something actually had turned up, she felt reconfirmed by the Mother and was determined to use this to curb his influence as best she could.

Besides, she was genuinely concerned he had been about to do something very serious with someone else's spirit. She had always known it, she told herself: It was just not normal for someone so young (and a man to boot) to be so powerful already - First Caller.

At the very least, Vincavec must have sent those evil spirits that had befallen his older brother's bowels and had made something within the poor man's body tear or burst, killing him after days of pain and fever - precisely at the right time for the younger brother to assume the positions of mamut and headman of Musk-Ox Camp in one go. For the wellbeing of all Mamutoi, she needed to stop him.

* * *

Vincavec stood there, still stark naked, arms crossed, smiling benignly, while Brecie announced her intention to bring this case to the council of sisters and have him banned from the ranks of those who served at the very least. The former blood container in the fire was charred to unrecognizable condition already.

This could have turned out really nasty for him if Tulie had been less superstitious and they had kept the so-called evidence, unless Dollie or Chaleg would have supported his story, which was quite unlikely since it would have harmed their own standing substantially. Casting doubt upon Latie's virginity was not an appealing option either.

When the Elk Camp headwoman was taking a breath, the young shaman interrupted her: „Brecie my dear, I understand your concern as an _older_ watching woman." He stressed the „older", and she scowled. „But before you make a fool of yourself in front of the councils, let me ask you: On whose behalf are you going to plead?"

Now she was puzzled. He clearly had been up to something evil, the councils would see that, wouldn't they?

His smile broadened. „Brecie, I understand that you are going to accuse me of trying to harm some woman."

She nodded; that was putting it mildly.

„That accusation is quite pointless if you can't name the woman I was supposedly trying to harm, wouldn't you say so?" He had a point, and Tulie was nodding. This quite deflated her cause.

„But, since the tent was dark, you can't honestly say with which woman I was, now can you? And besides," he added, nodding towards the piece of tissue burning in the fire, „you just burned your evidence. Good night gals, sweet dreams."

A grin much more confident than he actually was on his face, he picked up his clothing and strutted away into the dark, leaving a dumbfounded Brecie, and Tulie lost in thought. That little rag had not looked like the quality workmanship Mamm ... Musk-Ox Camp put into all their tools, but if it was not Vincavec's, whose was it, to what purpose, and why did Vincavec back them up? She knew the stories about women-to-be feigning virginity like everyone else did, but could it be that Jondalar's refusal to do the rites for Latie was because he had been with her earlier?

She refused to believe it, but if it had been Dollie and Chaleg, or any other couple, why would Vincavec cover for them? Tulie decided to have a quiet talk with Old Mamut before making any decision; this was too spiritual a matter for her own knowledge. Then she waved Brecie over to help her throw Chaleg out of the women's tent so that everybody could get some sleep.

Jondalar_saw Latie coming toward him. He smiled and stopped to watch her. She walked with an independent stride now, smiled confidently at people who nodded greetings.  
There is a difference, he thought. It always amazed him to see the change that First Rites brought. Latie was no longer a child, or a giggling, nervous girl. Though she was still young, she moved with the assurance of a woman._

_"Hello, Jondalar," she said, smiling. _

_"Hello, Latie. You're looking happy." A lovely young woman, he thought to himself as he smiled. His eyes conveyed his feeling. She responded with an indrawn breath and widened eyes, and then a look that answered his unconscious invitation._

_"I am. I was getting so tired of staying in one place all the time. This is the first chance I've had to walk around by myself...or with anyone I want." She swayed a little closer as she looked up at him. "Where are you going?"_

She looked disappointed when he told her he was looking for Ayla, and he was glad he'd not break her heart when he would leave, which would be soon.

At the same time Old Mamut was talking to Ayla:_ „Your reluctance is giving Vincavec hope. He asked me again today if I thought you were considering his offer. He said, if you didn't want to break your Promise, he was going to talk to Ranec about accepting him as a co-mate. His offer could increase your Bride Price substantially, and give very high status to all of you. How would you feel about it, Ayla? Would you be willing to accept Vincavec as a co-mate with Ranec?"_

_"Vincavec said something about that on the hunt. I'd have to talk to Ranec and see _

_how he feels about it," Ayla said. _

_Mamut thought she showed remarkably little enthusiasm, either way. This was a bad time for a joining, with her grief still so strong._

On the day of the matrimonial, Vincavec was frantic. Ayla had told him days earlier that she might agree to a co-mating if Ranec would not mind, and Ranec had in turn told him he might acquiesce if Ayla or Tulie insisted. Tulie had thankfully not brought the First Rites issue to the public, and had likely stopped Brecie as well, but she had not been as supportive of his pleas as she had been before.

_Vincavec, like old Mamut and the rest of the mamuti, was convinced that Ayla was not just Mamut - One Who Served the Mother - she had to be something more. Perhaps she embodied some supernatural presence; she might even be Mut Herself, incarnate. It was all the more believable because she did not flaunt it. But whatever her power, he was sure some important destiny awaited her. There was a reason for her existence, and he fervently wanted to be a part of it. She was the chosen of the Great Earth Mother._

The chosen of the Great Earth Mother had chosen the traveller from the far west, as was probably preordained, and rode with him into the sunset, leaving her people behind her to drop tears to the shroud of ash that still covered everything. Vincavec had never felt so lacking and unworthy, which he tried to mask by making snide remarks to Tulie about accepting amber for a bride.

Deegie was too happy with her mating to Branag this day to be overly sorry, but Latie was really devastated by the couple's departure, and not Jondalar's only as such. Ever since her vision, she had been sure Ayla would teach her horse-taming magic, but that was not to be now. She would have to work out that magic all on her own if her vision was to come true, but that would take years of learning the lore of those who served beforehand, and what if the Mother blessed her in the meantime? And wouldn't the mamuti consider her presumptuous if she asked to be an acolyte just because she would like to be able to handle horses like Ayla did? No, she decided, she would not ask; she rejected the mamuti tent anyway since they had denied her brother Rydag his humanity.


	7. unworthy

A/N: Text in italics is once again quoted from The Mammoth Hunters by Jean Auel.

* * *

Jondalar _saw Latie coming toward him. He smiled and stopped to watch her. She walked with an independent stride now, smiled confidently at people who nodded greetings.  
There is a difference, he thought. It always amazed him to see the change that First Rites brought. Latie was no longer a child, or a giggling, nervous girl. Though she was still young, she moved with the assurance of a woman._

_"Hello, Jondalar," she said, smiling. _

_"Hello, Latie. You're looking happy." A lovely young woman, he thought to himself as he smiled. His eyes conveyed his feeling. She responded with an indrawn breath and widened eyes, and then a look that answered his unconscious invitation._

_"I am. I was getting so tired of staying in one place all the time. This is the first chance I've had to walk around by myself...or with anyone I want." She swayed a little closer as she looked up at him. "Where are you going?"_

She looked disappointed when he told her he was looking for Ayla, and he was glad he'd not break her heart when he would leave, which would be soon.

At the same time Old Mamut was talking to Ayla:_ „Your reluctance is giving Vincavec hope. He asked me again today if I thought you were considering his offer. He said, if you didn't want to break your Promise, he was going to talk to Ranec about accepting him as a co-mate. His offer could increase your Bride Price substantially, and give very high status to all of you. How would you feel about it, Ayla? Would you be willing to accept Vincavec as a co-mate with Ranec?"_

_"Vincavec said something about that on the hunt. I'd have to talk to Ranec and see how he feels about it," Ayla said. _

_Mamut thought she showed remarkably little enthusiasm, either way. This was a bad time for a joining, with her grief still so strong._

* * *

On the day of the matrimonial, Vincavec was frantic. Ayla had told him days earlier that she might agree to a co-mating if Ranec would not mind, and Ranec had in turn told him he might acquiesce if Ayla or Tulie insisted. Tulie had thankfully not brought the First Rites issue to the public, and had likely stopped Brecie as well, but she had not been as supportive of his pleas as she had been before.

_Vincavec, like old Mamut and the rest of the mamuti, was convinced that Ayla was not just Mamut - One Who Served the Mother - she had to be something more. Perhaps she embodied some supernatural presence; she might even be Mut Herself, incarnate. It was all the more believable because she did not flaunt it. But whatever her power, he was sure some important destiny awaited her. There was a reason for her existence, and he fervently wanted to be a part of it. She was the chosen of the Great Earth Mother._

* * *

The chosen of the Great Earth Mother had chosen the traveller from the far west, as was probably preordained, and rode with him into the sunset, leaving her people behind her to drop tears to the shroud of ash that still covered everything. Vincavec had never felt so lacking and unworthy, which he tried to mask by making snide remarks to Tulie about accepting amber for a bride who then ran.

Deegie was too happy with her mating to Branag this day to be overly sorry, but Latie was really devastated by the couple's departure, and not Jondalar's only as such.

Ever since her vision, she had been sure Ayla would teach her horse-taming magic, but that was not to be now. She would have to work out that magic all on her own if her vision was to come true, but that would take years of learning the lore of those who served beforehand, and what if the Mother blessed her in the meantime?

And wouldn't the mamuti consider her presumptuous if she asked to be an acolyte just because she would like to be able to handle horses like Ayla did? No, she decided, she would not ask; she rejected the mamuti tent anyway since they had denied her brother Rydag his humanity.


	8. epilogue

About two handsful of days after Ayla and the Zelandonii man had left, the Mamutoi buried Lomie. The asthmatic First Healer had finally succumbed to the cough that the volcanic ashes had brought about many in the camp.

Some others had gone before her, and Marlie, the hosting Wolf Camp's headwoman, would likely be next. She could hardly get out of bed any more, and was out of breath after a few steps.

Watching the youngest surviving daughter of his third woman pull on for just a few more days, so as to talk her daughter Tricie into joining with Ranec and taking over as headwoman, saddened the old Mamut of Lion Camp more than his newly adopted daughter's departure, which he had been expecting for a while and which he took as a part in the long-term plans of the Mother.

Lomie's death was a grave loss, too. He had counted on her to carry on his legacy, to keep some of the deepest and darkest mysteries not every Mamut could be trusted with, but now, she was no more.

She had not taken well to every revelation he had passed on to her, he had to admit, particularly anything to do with the Clan. Lomie had been one of those adamant not to allow Rydag to be counted amongst the Mamutoi and not even to grant him a decent burial. As a healer, she had claimed, she had to prevent contamination to the tribe.

She had stuck to that motto to the very end, insisting also that everybody had to wear the same scarves of felt or woven hairs that they used for protection against dust-storms, to keep themselves from inhaling the ashes. That had likely saved many lives, but not Lomie's own. He wondered to whom he should pass on his knowledge now, or whether the Mother meant it to die with him one day.

* * *

„Milk of Doni's breasts" the Zelandonii traveller who had lured Spirit Woman away had called this ghastly, nasty, killing stuff. It was still everywhere, permeating every nook and cranny. People were coughing; some had died. And the grazing herds stayed away from the grass that was more like a whetstone now because of the intermingling ashes.

The stored mammoth meat was nearly eaten up. Vincavec sat meditating at Lomie's grave. There was no First Healer any more. Elk Camp's - Brecie's - mamut was good at healing and might fill the void at some time, but really that should have been Ayla's place.

Old Mamut of Lion Camp was still First Searcher, and there had not been a First Seer or Seeress since the rift with the Sungaea at a time shrouded in myth.

There was still the vague hope that Latie, who was clearly gifted, would sign up for training, but so far, she had not. Vincavec himself, despite his youth, was the Mamutois' First Caller. His gift was utterly useless now. Whatever he'd do, the herds would never come to a land where they could not browse.

Was the Mother so upset with the Mamutoi that She had decided to destroy them by this deadly „milk from Her breasts"? If so, what had they done wrong? Was it that they had been unable to attract Ayla, the living muta, to stay with them? But that had not been sealed when the ashes cloud rose, and besides, if the Mother had sent out the man from the far west years before, so that he could take Ayla back with him now, that must have been her plan all along, so why would She punish Her children?

There was only one event that coincided with the mountain spouting, and that was Wolf's arrival at the hunting party, or in other words: the mixed boy Rydag dying. Should the Mamutoi have welcomed him? Could he have been an acolyte, once Ayla had introduced a means of communication, and maybe an important teacher later on?

If his mother's people did burial ceremonies as Ayla had done for the boy, his people must certainly possess valuable spiritual knowledge. Was the Mother displeased with the Mamutoi for shunning him?

What if Old Mamut, who had lived with flatheads long ago, who had participated in their ceremonies and mastered their hand-talk to some degree, would have remembered that strange language years earlier, when the mute boy had been living at his camp? Vincavec had mentioned some of these thoughts during the latest mamuti meeting, and had promptly been thrown out.

He was not comfortable with the thought that their attitude towards flatheads might be such an issue to the Mother that she'd condemn people for making the wrong choiche, but for all he could tell, that was what was happening.

But he needed an ordeal to be certain. If, he decided, by using the flathead wind spirit's name he had learned during Latie's vision, he could help his people get out of this misery, he would travel and learn from those flatheads, and speak for them as best he could.

* * *

Oooha was delighted. Never before had any living thing made a reasonable request of her. Always, they had asked or even demanded she'd stop blowing. That was certainly not something to request of the wind personified.

She did not particularly care about the seabirds she often crushed against rocks, or the seal cubs on their sand banks struggling to breathe in her sanding storms, or the one or other mammoth swept up in a tornado. The fates of individuals did not matter to her. All she knew was that it was her duty to propel, destroy and transport. She might flatten an entire forest, devastate an island or kill a swarm of birds in her rage, and she'd drop the majority of her charge of travelling plant seeds, birds, insects, bats, spiders gliding on their cobweb-parachutes, and other living things, somewhere over the ocean to drown. But sometimes some of them would reach new shores, and the Mother would rejoice.

There had been other living things long ago in the past, like giant dragonflies, or the first hide-winged ones with their toothed beaks ...

Those-with-a-mind had stopped talking to her a little while ago. (They hadn't been in existance overly long so far, for that matter.) Only once had they acknowledged her recently, to take a look at a yellow-furred land-bound living thing, which sometimes hurled stones through her air, but did not create larger scale havoc and was hence overall rather boring.

But now, another one of those living and with-a-mind had contacted her, and that one was really delightful. He had actually asked her to blow more! It was a small thing to do, blow that ash away, as she did with the loess dust on a regular basis.

She had been more than willing to grant his request, since he had addressed her with sounds made from air for the first time she could remember, and he had burned some of his own blood as was appropriate, and some of the resin of the ancient forests that she and her rain sister had buried under mudslides long ago: amber. The smell reminded her of the first creatures that had ever taken to the air. She loved it.

Back to her current companion. She was not sure why she had a feeling he was male, like Lumi, the Mother's pale lover in the sky, who somehow influenced her own and her ocean sister's movements, and if he was, what that maleness meant to her. But she wanted to keep him. He was such a delight with his interest in her ways and powers that she just wanted to keep him and be with him always.

When he detected something on the ground that caught his interest, although it was of no matter to her, she leaned in closer. Some of those-with-a-mind had built up their flimsy shelters that were so easily swept up and away, while some others of their kind, and horses, and a wolf, were approaching them.

Oooha felt it would be easiest to just kill them all and gather their spirits so her companion could play whith them, but he seemed to mind, and she really had no experience whith such things, so she let him watch the insignificant creatures and proceed his way.

* * *

The dust-storm was early in the season, in fact months before its time. Falcon Camp had set up their tents close to the river, although they were late for the summer meeting. There was no travelling through this grit. Urged by their mamut, they had even sent guards out. The woman had her antics and awkward moments, but she had been adamant there were spirits travelling on the wind.

The Falcon Camp mamut herself was beyond herself with worry, much worse than she could let her camp know. She could feel magic in the wind, and sensed a powerful mind driving it - not necessarily evil, but largely oblivious to destruction, like a woman trampling ants or earthworms in her travels.

Worse, the shaman herself had only her aurochs mask with her, and the decorated staff, but not the raven mask which should have been much more useful dealing with a wind spirit. Heart in her camp-shoes, she decided it would have to do. There was no other way. She would do what she could to protect her people.

* * *

„He has been out there alone for a day and night." Avarie was shifting weight nervously from one foot to the other and wringing her hands in front of Old Mamut of Lion Camp. „I know thirst is only a problem after three days, but the wind has been blowing so strongly, taking all the ashes with it. It's just that I'm worried."

The Mammoth Camp headwoman did not mention that the storm blowing with gale-force so early in the season worried her also, even though it had taken the deadly ashes away. Her brother's reputation was bad enough as it were, since the First Rites ceremony anyway - there was really no stopping rumours at a summer meeting; she would not tell anyone outside their camp that he had insisted they move everything inside and reinforce their tents' fastenings, as if he had seen the storm coming - or planned to Call it. Thinking the latter gave her the creeps. She did not know of any other shaman her brother was on really good terms with and who might help him, except for the revered old man from Lion Camp.

Old Mamut was pleased that Avarie had shown up and asked him to help rescue her brother. He had waited for someone to volunteer, but had hoped it would be Latie - they would be a perfect match he thought, both striving for this new Controlling power, both open-minded and caring.

He would rather like passing his knowledge of handling spirits to a woman of his kin, but Latie had not asked to be taught, and there seemed to be no attraction between her and Vincavec, which spoke well of the young man's conduct at the ceremony - hiding his identity - but was overall a pity, he thought. Be that as it may, only someone who loved the person dearly could draw someone back who was lost in the spirit world, and now Avarie had volunteered. There was still hope for his potential successor.

* * *

Tulie both admired and pitied Avarie. She was not at all sure she could do the younger headwoman's job, if she had to, and was glad she didn't have to try. Taking over Talut's duties, if her brother were incapacitated, would be hard enough, but Avarie now even had to bring her brother back from places ordinary mortals could not go, and deal with powers beyond their grasp. She shivered.

The small group of people had reached the hilltop where the lone figure sat cross-legged, wrapped in a heavy cloak of musk-ox fur, eyes unfocused to the distance, his long brown hair trailing haphazardly in the wind. The fire in front of him had long gone out, but the cut and dried blood on his left wrist left no doubt that he had been into blood magic.

Tulie did not have the spiritual knowledge to also evaluate the half-empty container of amber fragments that sat beside the unconscious shaman, but Old Mamut, whom Talut had carried up the slope, did.

The gemstone was not just a stone, but also a resin, that could be burned as incense; it could encapsule plants or insects, and when rubbed on fur, it could create sparks. So the powerful stone carried the forces of stone, life, fire, air and lightning, and was used in the most ancient and feared rituals, that drew on the highest forces. The Amber Camp shamans had always been particularly powerful.

Avarie was shouting at her brother, alternately slapping him and trying to make him drink from a waterskin. With the gale blowing, he looked certainly parched.

* * *

Several days' walk to the southwest, the Falcon Camp mamut exited her tent, with aurochs mask and staff, in full ceremonial garb. The headman had shouted something about horse-human spirits. She would face them, but beforehand, she let all her pent-up tension out in one powerful roar and jabbed her staff into the air, imagining punching a spirit in the face and propelling it back to where it might belong. To her utter astonishment, she had the impression of actually hitting something.

* * *

Being back in his body hurt. He was parched and felt a black eye developing, likely from the hit with the staff. Interesting; so far, he had always riduculed the Falcon Camp mamut for her supposedly pointless mask-dances. He dimly registered people around him and gratefully accepted water from his sister. It had all worked. He was elated.

* * *

Oooha was quite disappointed. She could not comprehend what the living things had done to each other, and didn't really care, but her companion was gone from her, back to his mortal shell. Briefly she considered reclaiming him, but could not really make him out in the throng of other creatures, and then she thought he would come back to her for sure, now that he knew he could travel with the wind. She would wait. What was a human's lifetime to her after all?


End file.
